Heaven Don't Hear Me
by Mummyluvr
Summary: Sequel to Love Be There. The cracked pavement seemed an odd place to end the world, yet here they were, the whole lot Hellbound in the end. Dean/Castiel, mentions of Sam/Ruby. 4.01 spoilers.


**Title:** Heaven Don't Hear Me

**Summary:** Sequel to Love Be There. The cracked pavement seemed an odd place to end the world, yet here they were, the whole lot Hellbound in the end. Dean/Castiel, mentions of Sam/Ruby. 4.01 spoilers.

**Rating:** T

**A/N:** All right, for those of you keeping up with this little series of one-shots, this is number three. There will be four. So it's almsot done. I swear. There will probably be more D/C to come (like, duh...), but this 'verse is almsot tired out. Hope you like it!

**Warning:** Spoilers for 4.01. Dean/Castiel. Character death (blink and you miss it!).

**Disclaimer:** Supernatural is not mine, as I'm not Eric Kripke, but I'm still a horrible person.

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Heaven Don't Hear Me

They were in love, bodies entangled in sheets that had been soiled by a love damned from the start, but neither cared. They were together, facing down the end of days, the biggest threat that humanity had ever faced. The saved wanted to know what Heaven was like.

It was beautiful. The most beautiful place he would ever see. Or never see. Everything was perfect there, and he would never want for anything. He would be loved there, forever and for always, and that was what the savior knew that he wanted most. That was why they were there. To give the saved what he deserved.

What was Hell like? The savior hoped he would never find out, never have to remember. God was merciful in that way, truly giving him a second chance, even if the savior had ruined it for both of them.

And why was he saved? Why was he so special? And why, the savior wondered to himself, did he pause on that last word? Why did he not see himself the way that the savior saw him, bathed in ethereal light that was almost blinding, bright and pure and wonderful? Willing to give it all and take nothing back. Why couldn't he see that even if he wasn't special _enough_, he was still _here_, and that counted for something?

Why did God make gay angels? The savior tried not to laugh and failed miserably. His charge was rubbing off on him in all the worst ways, and he secretly loved it. He was becoming more human by the day, as forbidden as that was. He was falling, falling in love, falling into the Pit.

He told the saved that God made all creatures with free will. What they did with it was up to them. Lucifer chose his own path, as did the saved. As did he. As did the demons that were creeping ever closer, drawn on by the salty-sweet stench of forbidden romance. They were all wrapped up in it together now, tangled in sheets stained crimson with blood.

He watched as the saved closed his eyes to sleep, and he prayed.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The two pairs met up on a deserted stretch of highway. It would have seemed like a chance meeting, an accident, had it not been preordained. The spot had been chosen before the birth of the first Winchester, before the Fall, before any of it. It was destiny.

The dust blew between them. They stared. Sam and Ruby, Dean and Castiel, separated by cracked concrete and humid air. Nothing more, nothing less.

Sam was the first to speak. "You left."

"I didn't have a choice," Dean defended. "I didn't know what was going on. Sammy, I didn't know what I was."

"You're an angel." There was such awe in his voice that for a moment, Dean almost believed him. Almost. But then he remembered. He remembered the night before, and the night before that. He remembered the things he had done. The things that no true angelic force would do.

"No, I'm not."

"I saw it," Sam argued. "You had _wings_." He blinked, his eyes settling on Castiel for the first time since their arrival in the spot. "Is he an angel, too?"

"Sort of," Dean said, a smirk working its way onto his face. "He's Falling."

Ruby stepped up beside Sam, wrapping long fingers around his thick arm. "Ohh, sorry to hear that, Cass," she cooed. "Pity."

Castiel narrowed his eyes at her. "Only he can call me that," he said, nodding toward Dean.

Something like jealousy flashed across Sam's face, settling in his eyes with a yellow glow. "What did he say?" he asked. "Dean, why is he Falling?"

"Sammy-"

"Where have you been the past two months?"

"I can tell you," Ruby said, smiling up at the hunter, at the man that Dean didn't even recognize anymore. "He's been doing the same thing we've been doing, Sam. The _exact_ same thing." She turned her black gaze toward them and smiled. "They're both going to Hell."

"I look forward to seeing you there," Castiel replied.

Sam shook his head. "No."

"Well, probably not the _exact_ same thing," Dean said. He sighed. He couldn't even look at his brother, at the yellow tinge in his eyes, that amber spark that reminded him so much of the demon that had taken everything from them. "Listen, Sammy, she's been lying to you. She's been using you-"

"And who told you that? Your new bed-buddy?"

"We were told by God," Castiel said.

Sam raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest and shaking Ruby from his side. "You're on a mission from God? Really, Dean? The same God you don't even believe in?"

"I believe now," Dean whispered, a statement that everyone knew to be lie as they all wormed inside his mind. "And I think you should, too. What she's feeding you are nothing but lies, man. I mean, look at yourself. Look at your _eyes_."

"Do you have any idea what I was doing while you were gone?" Sam asked. "I was fighting- by myself- to save people. She taught me how to harness my abilities. I can exorcise demons with a thought. I can decimate cities on a whim. I can-"

"Undo everything dad and I worked so hard for. Everything _you_ worked for."

"You don't believe me," Sam said, shaking his head. He glanced down at Ruby. "You were right. I'll have to show him."

She smiled, looked at the two figures that stood at attention across from them, and nodded. "Show them your power."

Sam's yellowed eyes rolled back in his head, his arms held out before his body, palms flat as they hovered in the air high over the road. The concrete cracked under their feet, filling with fire and lava, creating a small section of Hell on Earth.

He opened his eyes and smiled- actually _smiled_. "See. I can control it now."

Castiel glanced at Dean, saw the confusion in the man's eyes, the conflict, the hurt. "Show him," he urged. Dean nodded.

Heat lightning flashed in the distance as the man that had been ripped from Hell unfurled the wings he'd been given. They were black shadows against the new fire of the landscape, and even the angel had to admit that he was impressed. There was a chance that they could win, that it would all be over soon.

A flap of the wings sent Dean up into the sky, where he hovered for a moment before falling back to he earth, back to Sam. He grabbed his brother and pulled him up into the clouds, twisting and writhing until they'd disappeared into the sun.

The angel and the demon looked at each other. Ruby grinned. "And then there were two."

"You will never win."

"And you will never regain your place in Heaven. Tell me, was it worth it?"

He considered, cocking his head slighting, his eyes trailing up to the heavens, where he could vaguely make out the outlines of his charge and the Boy King. "Yes."

"Really?"

"I helped him."

Her grin turned positively evil. "You helped him? How? By branding him? By raising him from Hell? By blowing him till he came for you?" She laughed. "And how exactly did that help him?"

Castiel opened his mouth to respond as Sam's lifeless body crashed to the ground between them. "I helped him reach his full potential. His purpose in life." He met her eyes and smiled mirthlessly, waiting for her to flee. "I promised he would never again be alone."

Ruby raised her host's head and escaped into the sky. She didn't make it far before she ran into Dean, who broke her in two with his bare hands as Castiel watched from below.

He would give the human time. Give him time to mourn and rest and recharge before they faced whatever might come next. If the amplified voice in his mind was anything to go off of, it was a promise that would be broken, the first lie that he had ever told.

The angel supposed that was fitting, considering where he was going.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

He enjoyed watching the saved sleep. It was peaceful. It made him feel that something right had come out of this whole mess, that he hadn't fucked it all up.

He was becoming more like the saved everyday, and the thought excited him. The man was exotic and wild, untamed, and unbound by the strict rules that had held the savior captive since the beginning of time. He enjoyed the bursts of freedom he found with this man.

The saved rolled over, opened his eyes, looked up at him with a trust that the savior hadn't thought he could ever win. He had one more question.

When he was a child, his mother told him stories, said that angels were watching over him. He wants to know, is that why they're here? Is that why he was saved? Was his the savior specifically? Was he the one she meant?

He hates to disappoint, but, no. Those were fairy tales. Back then, they were just stories. But now… now he touches the brand on his charge's arm, the print that is his but doesn't match this body. Now the saved is his and his alone. And no one can take that from them. Not even God Himself.

The saved doesn't believe in God, not even now, not even with his savior's wings curled around them both and his own pressed hard against his back. He believes in what he sees. He believes in _them_.

They will go back to Hell. They both acknowledge this. But they will go back together, and nothing will keep them apart. The savior knows that this is the right thing to say because he can look inside his charge's mind and read him like a book, see his fears and uncertainties. He knows this is why the saved loves him back, is willing to trust him with his very soul.

They belong to each other now, entwined in their covers, with the demons drawing nearer. The savior wasn't watching in his childhood, but he should have been. So much could have been prevented, so much hurt made better.

Dean falls asleep in his arms, doesn't feel the soft brush of lips against his forehead, the whisper in the dark. "Sleep tight, for tomorrow, the world ends."

* * *

So, there you have it. What do you think?


End file.
